Birthday News
by Battered notebook of stories
Summary: Chapter 5 Indy, Marion,and a 'surprise' pregnancy. Romance, snark, dancing, and a flashback await in this final chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**1. Marshall College Field School**

**Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico**

**June 1958**

Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. looked around the table of graduate students sitting outside the mess tent of his dig in the Yucatan. A flickering kerosene lamp lit their faces as the tropical sun sank behind a nearby stand of trees.

He rubbed his hands on his pants leg and stood to let the students know he was wrapping the meeting. "So I think that's it, everyone. Dr. Wan will be officially in charge while I'm gone and Mr. Wilson will be his right hand man. I'm sure the two of them can handle any issue that arises. In the unlikely event that anything _really_ drastic happens, we have contingency plans ready and they both know how to reach me."

The group started to break up, but a knot of students lingered with their professor and his famous colleague. Dr. Wan Li's discovery of the fabled Peacock's Eye had recently been written up in _National Archaeology, _and the graduate students were excited and intrigued_. _Several professional points were being discussed around the table when one student piped up with a_ 'personal question_.'

"Dr _Jones,_" cooed Barbara Crawford as she fiddled with her bleached-blonde hair "do you have any _special_ plans for your birthday? Aren't you going to _miss _us?

Indy had met a female student with plans to 'get ahead on her back' before-oh, once or twice- and Barbara's antics were no surprise. But if that little piece of work thought she was getting anywhere with _him,_ she was sadly mistaken.

He folded his arms. "As a matter of fact, Miss Crawford, I_ do_ have plans. I intend to spend my birthday in an air conditioned hotel suite, with a bucket of iced champagne and a beautiful lady. I doubt I'll be thinking about the dig much until it's time to get back."

"Isn't that a little…_naughty_…Dr. Jones?" Barbara almost purred. "_What_ would the Board of Regents say if they found out?" Two other female grad students traded looks and rolled their eyes.

Indy smiled. "I don't think the Board of Regents will object," he said calmly, "since I'm lucky enough to be married to the lady."

"Mrs. Jones will be joining us for the last three weeks of the dig, isn't that right, sir?" Jack Wilson put in cheerfully

"Yes, she will," Dr. Jones answered."I'm not taking those undergraduates to Chichen Itza without reinforcements." His face lit with a tender smile, as Barbara's fell into a rather unattractive pout.

_Smooth move, Jones,_ Jack thought. _I'll have to remember how you did that._ He had jumped at the chance to work as a dig supervisor for the legendary Indiana Jones- hell, any PhD candidate worth his salt would have. But Barb-O, with her slacking, complaining, and tendency to chase anything old enough to shave, hadn't made his job any easier. He wasn't sorry to see her put in her place. And judging from the smirks on his fellow students' faces, nobody else was, either.

At that moment, Jack caught Dr. Wan's eye. He was looking at Barbara speculatively, as though she reminded him of someone, or perhaps it just amused him to see her obvious play for Dr. Jones fall flat.

"If you'll excuse us, ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Wan said smoothly, "I'm looking forward to getting to know you all, but Dr. Jones and I need to get a few things squared away before he leaves That train to Mexico City won't wait and," he looked pointedly at Barbara "I know Dr. Jones is anxious to see his lovely bride."

"Damn straight," said their professor with a grin.

Jack took the hint "I'll go tell Nelson to bring the truck around for you, sir" he said. He jerked his thumb meaningfully, and the group started to actually disperse this time. Jack snorted to himself when Barbara made a beeline for one of the guys, linked her arm through his and began fluttering her eyelashes. _That girl's giving 'easy' a bad name…._

Back in the tent, Indy threw a few last things into his grip and closed it.

"Thanks again for filling in for me, Shorty."

Wan Li grinned at the use of his old nickname. "I'm sorry I had to miss your wedding, but maybe this will make up for it."

He gestured at the picture of the smiling couple on Indy's camp chest. "So how do you like married life so far, Dr. Jones?"

Indy shook his head. "If I had one, I'd tell you."

His self-deprecating smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You know it's a funny thing. I've had a woman or two in my life who was a mistress but wanted to act like a wife. Now I have a wife-but she acts more like a mistress."

Wan Li looked searchingly at his friend and mentor, but all he said was "Oh? How's that?"

"Well," said Indy in a long-suffering tone, as he began to tick his points off on his fingers. "Marion won't give up her share in the restaurant, and she won't sell the house in Chicago. She pretty much comes and goes as she damn well pleases. And then when we started planning the dig, she says she can't possibly spend the whole summer with_ me_, because if Harold Oxley is teaching field school she takes time off from her business every summer and helps _him_."

Li raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's what _I_ thought. Hell, what about me? What about_ us_? Dammit, she stood up in front of a church full of people and promised to love, honor and cherish _me_, not The Ox."

The younger man grinned. "What, no 'obey'?"

Indy barked a laugh. "I ain't crazy. But I've needed Marion for 20 years. Now that I have her back, I don't see why it 's a federal offense that I want my baby close."

"I remember Marion as being very independent," Li said thoughtfully "but of course I was quite young when you two parted ways before. I can't say Miss Willie was pleased with your engagement, though."

"Well _I_ can't see why she cared" Indy answered, "since she'd moved on to that Hollywood big shot by then. But what you have to understand, Shorty, is that for me there were always two kinds of women."

"Really?

"Oh yeah. Marion Ravenwood- and anybody else. I think Willie knew."

Indy picked up his wedding picture and turned it in his hands.

"I got to the point," he said softly "when I tried to make my peace with thinking I'd lost that baby of mine forever. I figured I'd simply have to go on with my life. But after a while it just got easier to be alone than to be with someone who wasn't her."

"May I see the picture?" Indy handed it over, and Li couldn't help smiling at the distinguished groom in his wedding suit and the glowing bride on his arm.

"Marion's hardly aged a day since I last saw her. And she's looking at you with such love."

But Wan 'Short Round' Li hadn't gotten his PhD by being afraid to ask questions. So he shot a penetrating look at his old friend and said "Indy, do forgive me, but with what you say about her acting distant- have you given Marion any reason to think that she needs to hedge her bets where you're concerned?"

"You mean other than me being a prize heel and walking out on her back then?"

"No. I meant something more recent. Willing blonde graduate students, for instance."

"Not a chance And if you're thinking about trying your luck with" Indy jerked a thumb toward the table outside-"_that _little chippie, watch out. From what my young fellas say, you'll catch yourself a dose, easy...

"Not interested, thanks. She looks like the kind of woman who'd be exhausting-but not in a good way."

Indy chuckled. "So I hear in the shower."

Wan Li handed the picture back and Indy replaced it carefully. His face softened.

"It's true, though. A man who's got steak doesn't go after hamburger. I never 'stepped out' on Marion before and I've got no plans to do it now."

"I can think of a couple of people who'd be very surprised to hear you say that."

Indy snorted. "Oh, I'm sure you could. But they weren't Marion, were they?"

"No, they sure weren't. So I hope this time together will be what you need. And tell Marion I am looking forward to seeing her again, and to meeting your son."

"I will. Wish me luck, Shorty."

Wan Li slapped him on the back "You betcha, Docta Jones."

A horn blew outside. Indy grabbed his jacket, swung up his grip, and headed for the truck.

**2. University of Chicago Field School**

**Chaco Canyon, New Mexico**

**June, 1958**

In another tent, at another dig, Marion Ravenwood Jones fastened _her _suitcase. She handed it to the student who was loading the camp jeep, and turned to say good bye to an old friend.

"We'll miss you, of course, my dear," said Harold Oxley gently "but I can't help but feel that your place is with Henry. I've felt quite guilty for taking you away from him for these past few weeks.

"I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to."

Ox took Marion's hand and looked at her searchingly. "My dear, I don't mean to pry, but it's unusual for so recent a bride to be willingly separated from her new husband. Is everything…all right…between you and Henry? Young Mutt would die rather than say anything, but I'm sure he wonders as well…"

Marion sighed. "Oh, Ox, I'm afraid this is as good as it's going to get. Don't get me wrong, I love Indy and I miss him dreadfully but….

"But?"

"It's just that" Marion burst out, "I had no idea how much _work _being married to Jones was going to be! Honestly, Col on his _worst_ day took about half the 'wifely maintenance' that Indy does on his_ best_. I don't know whatever happened to that man who hated the thought of being tied down, but he's not around these days."

Ox cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"If we're together, Indy will barely let me out of his sight. If he takes a shower he wants me to wash his back. If I'm cooking he wants to be in the same room with me. If we're sitting together he wants his arm around me. If we're walking, he wants to hold my hand. If he's reading he wants to put his head in my lap. If we're sleeping" her voice softened, "he wants to hold me."

"How very, very lonely he must have been without you," Ox said gently.

Marion looked at Ox ruefully. "You know I love him and it's wonderful, it really is, that Indy can actually admit that he needs me. But it's a little _stifling_ for someone who's been her own boss for so long."

"Henry loves you so, Marion. Anyone could see that. And he longs to make up for lost time with you, and with his son."

"I know. And if I were still seventeen I'd think I'd died and gone to heaven. But I'm _not_, Ox. I'm a grown woman who's used to living her own life."

Ox sat in on a canvas chair and steepled his fingers in thought.

"We all keep forgetting that Henry has been back in our lives for, really, less than a year," he said. "He's changed, as have we all. It may be that he's mellowed with age and he'll always be more attentive and affectionate than he was as a younger man."

"But," Ox leaned forward and looked at Marion earnestly, "I don't think that's it. I think what you're really seeing is a man who has gone without intimacy and affection for most of his adult life."

Ox nodded at the wedding picture Marion kept by her cot.

"Now that he has you, Henry's found what he's been missing, and he's astonished by it-look at that face. If he trusts you enough to let you know what he needs, is that such a bad thing?"

"No," said Marion. "It's not. For someone who's never been married, Ox, you're very wise."

"I'm just an observer of human nature, my dear. But I also think that the more you pull away, the more unsettled Henry becomes and the more he, almost instinctively, tries to keep you by him. If you show him the love and affection he craves, he may be more comfortable once he's reassured."

"And," Ox smiled, "it also may be that a new addition to the family will give him something else to think of and someone else to love."

Marion looked up and opened her mouth to speak, but Oxley forestalled her.

"Now" Ox raised a warning finger "this is nothing you should confirm or deny to _me._ Especially before you've spoken to Henry. But we're all at close quarters on a dig, you know. Nobody here would be surprised to learn that you have been harboring, ah, 'certain suspicions'."

Marion actually blushed. "_Ox_…"

"If those suspicions have become a certainty, it's time, and past, for the certainty's father to be told. You and Henry have been blessed with another chance to make a life together. Don't repeat your past mistakes, Marion."

Oh, I'm trying not to, but I seem to keep making new ones. Nothing's ever simple, is it Ox?"

"Not usually, no."

Ox rose and kissed Marion' cheek.. "_Vaya con Dios_, my dear. And give my best to the father-to-be."


	2. Chapter 2

**Mexico City**

**Gran Hotel Ciudad de Mexico**

**June 30/July 1,1958**

Marion had been here before, but she felt decidedly out of place wearing her camp clothes in the opulent lobby with its stained glass ceiling and exquisite Art Nouveau décor.

She brushes at her jacket and walked up to the desk . "We have a reservation"

Marion's smile could thaw even the chilliest of hotel clerks. "_Su nombre, Senora_?"

"Jones." _That is my name, now_. "Dr. and Mrs. Henry Jones."

The desk clerk handed Marion a room key, and asked her to sign the register A scrawled signature told her that Indy had already checked in. In spite of her misgivings , her heart quickened, as it had so many times when her Indy was near.

The concierge rang for a bellhop, who hefted her bags and led her to the elevator.

She followed him down the softly carpeted hall. Her eyes widened in surprise as he opened the door. _ Indy didn't have to get a suite…._

Marion tipped the bellhop, and left her bags in the living room.

"Indy, honey?" she called softly, but there was no answer.

She slipped into the bedroom and was greeted by a familiar, and much-loved, snore.

Indy, wearing only his boxers, was fast asleep in the luxurious bed. He lay on his back with an open book on his chest and his glasses halfway down his nose. Gently, she reached over and moved the book. Then she unhooked the glasses from his ears, and placed them on the nightstand.

_Oh, Indy_. Marion eyes misted as she looked at her man- her _husband_, now. For a moment, he was that dashing young archaeologist with the cocky grin, again, and she was that lovesick teenage girl. _This whole mess wouldn't have started if you weren't so damn adorable when you're sleeping, Jones. Of course, __your__ son wouldn't have survived to near- adulthood if he wasn't so cute when he's asleep so perhaps that's just as well._

Once the glasses were off, Indy rolled over and burrowed into his pillow, mumbling in his sleep. _Want something a little friendlier to cuddle, Indy? That could be arranged. But first…_

Marion fingered her sweaty,-travel stained clothes and surrendered to the call of the sparkling hotel bathtub. She had a lovely wallow in hot water and bubbles. Then she went to her overnight bag for something filmy and soft that she hoped her Indy would like.

Indy's eyes opened when she snuggled in next to him and kissed his face.

"Happy Birthday, Indy" she whispered.

He shifted his arm and pulled her astride him "Mmmm…" he purred. "A gorgeous woman in a negligee. Just what a _big _boy wants to unwrap on his birthday." He reached for the straps at her shoulders. "_C'mere, you_…"

Next morning, a faint shaft of light poked through the curtained windows. Marion's hair was tickling her face, so she lifted her head to get it out of her eyes. _That was a mistake, _she thought as her stomach attempted a pole vault. She snaked a hand into the nightstand drawer and grabbed a packet of saltines she'd saved from the airline meal.

_Eating a cracker flat on your back, that's supposed to help. _Marion crunched slowly; trying not to wake the contented man sprawled out beside her. For a moment she thought it was working-but she soon realized that her traitorous stomach had been lulling her into a false sense of security.

Groaning, Marion sat up and grabbed her husband's shirt from the bedpost. Then she lurched into the en-suite bath- and was thoroughly, comprehensively sick. Afterward, she slumped on the tile floor and leaned her head against the wall, waiting for the waves of dizziness to pass. _I had a little morning sickness with Mutt, but nothing like this. Could be I'm carrying a girl this time. But we're in a fancy hotel, so my chances of convincing Jones I'm sick from bad water are between slim and none. Maybe I can sneak back to bed before he wakes up? At least I didn't puke on that pretty nightgown he gave me for Christmas... _

A shadow fell across the doorway.

_Oh, __shit.__ Indy. Ever hear of 'sleeping in,' Jones?_

Indy crouched down beside his wife and helped her to her feet.

"Are you all right?"

"What does it look like? I'm fine, never better." Marion's attempts at sarcasm were cut short by a fresh spasm of retching. She tried to wave him back.

" 'M a little busy here, OK? So beat it, Jones"

He never had been good at following directions. Marion found herself supported by a strong arm, while Indy's free hand held her hair out of her face. _Just when a woman's at_ _her appealing sexy best,_ Marion thought wryly. _At least it's just the dry heaves, now…_

She didn't mean to turn her face into his chest when she'd finished. Really, she didn't. It just happened because the tile floor was so cold and he was so warm, and because her legs were so wobbly and he was so close. Jones didn't have to take it as an invitation to pick her up and carry her back to the bed, damn him**.**

He tucked the covers over her and began rummaging through his discarded clothes. "You need a doctor."

"No I don't."

"Honey, you're sick. Of course you do."

Marion levered herself to a sitting position, and brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"_No I don't_-at least not for another few months."

She took a deep breath, and faced the moment of truth. "Indy I _am _queasy, but it's not because I'm sick- it's because I'm _pregnant_."

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and glowered at him. "You knocked me up again, you son of a bitch."

Indy sat down abruptly at the foot of the bed and gave her an incredulous stare.

"Pregnant. _Pregnant._ You're-you're _pregnant_?

"That's what I said."

Indy shook his head, but he couldn't hide the grin that was starting to take over his face. "You're –we're-you're-gonna have a baby? Another baby? Are you _sure_?"

Marion sighed. "It's not that hard, Professor. Yes, I'm sure and a doctor confirmed it. There's a bun in the oven, I'm preggo, the rabbit bought the big one_._"

"How far along are you?"

"About three months."

"So that would have been…Paris?"

"You bet- a little honeymoon souvenir, just for you. But if you even _think_ about saying 'We'll always have Paris', buddy boy, I'll smack you with something."

Indiana's grin faded as he folded his arms and gave his wife an appraising look.

"You don't seem very happy about this."

Marion snorted. "Got it in one, Jonesy. What- you were expecting me to be thrilled with diaper duty, night feedings, and being the oldest mother in the PTA?"

"_Goddammit, Marion. _ I don't think either one of us thought this would happen but we both knew it was possible. If you wanted us to…take precautions… on our honeymoon you should have said so!"

Marion glared at her husband indignantly. "_I_ should have said so? It takes two to tango, mister- _you_ should have offered!"

Indy folded his arms and glared back. "_I_ should have _offered _–what the hell? Why? _You've_ never wanted us to use anything as long as I've known you! And as I recall, the only thing you had to say on the subject was '_Please_, _Indy_'!"

Indy's voice was starting to climb. "So now that we're finally married, you decided things are different and it's supposed to just _dawn_ on me? Maybe I _am _an 'idiot man'- but couldn't you have at least _explained_ it? Besides, _I'm_ not the one who doesn't want this baby!"

'It's not that I don't want the baby. I just don't think it's wise to for me get too attached."

"You '_don't think you should get too attached?'_ **_What?_** You're this child's _mother_, for God's sake!"

Marion looked at her lap. "Look, Jones, I know some women get a 'surprise' in their forties, and do fine, but I miscarried after Mutt. I don't know if this one will make it to term."

The freckles he'd always loved stood out sharply on her pale, forlorn face. Indy's heart melted. He moved to sit down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. When did that happen?"

Marion leaned her head against him but her eyes were far away. "January of '41- middle of the Blitz. Col and I wanted another child- a brother or sister for Henry. He was over the moon when I turned up pregnant and just _devastated _when I lost the baby."

There didn't seem to be anything good to say to this. "I imagine so" Indy managed at last.

"It wasn't the same between us-Col and me- for a while after that. He couldn't get over that the baby _you_ fathered lived, Indy and that his baby died. The fact that I'd had Mutt in peacetime -instead of going into premature labor in an air raid shelter-didn't seem to get through to him. Now, Col being Col, he was very kind to me. But it _hurt_ him so, and he didn't deserve that. He deserved the happy wife and the houseful of kids that he always wanted. And then when we'd finally made our peace with it, started thinking about maybe trying again" -Marion's voice cracked- "he was killed."

Indy was still at a loss for words. So he just drew her head down to his shoulder and held her there.

When he finally spoke, Indy's voice was gentle, but sure.

"Marion, honey, there's a lot of things in this world I don't know-but there's a few that I do. Col fell like a ton of bricks the minute he saw you, and I'm sure he loved you when he drew his last breath."

"Does that bother you?"

"Sometimes. A little. Hey- if I'm gonna be honest, sometimes a lot. Then again- I understand how he felt. But-" Indy paused and licked his lips "there _is _one thing I want to know."

"What?"

"Did you wait this long to tell _him_ you were pregnant?"

"No."

Indy looked at her questioningly.

She sighed. "It_ really_ doesn't have to be this hard, Jones. I waited longer. A woman's most likely to miscarry in the first three months so I waited till four to make sure I was out of the woods."

"And that's how long you were gonna wait before you told me? What if something...happened before then?"

Marion cuddled her head in and didn't answer.

Indy's eyes narrowed. "You weren't gonna tell me if you lost this baby, were you?"

She still didn't answer.

"_Were__ you?"_

She shook her head.

Indy knew he should be gentle with her right now, but he was hurt and angry, and the words spilled out before he could stop them.

"_Marion_. Don't I have a right to know? It's _my_ baby, too. But you'd just shut me out–curl up in a corner and grieve all alone-_not even give me a chance_? Would you have done that to Col?"

"Maybe not. But then, Col was the kind of man who'd stick around for the parts that weren't fun."

_And she said it so matter-of-factly_. Indy felt like he'd been stabbed.

"That's great, just _great_," he spat. "So why the hell are you wasting your time on _me_, since I'll never measure up to Colin Perfect Williams, nature's nobleman and the best husband and father ever to live! Bet you would have been happy if this one was _his_. Well, _fine!_" He stood up, stalked over to the closet, and started looking for his shoes.

Marion felt very cold without her Indy's protecting arm. She wrapped up in the blanket and to her horror, began to cry. _First puking, now this-oh goddamn hormones…._

She tried to hold back her tears, but they wouldn't stop. So she bit on her knuckles to stifle the sobs as Indy, still with his back turned, finished dressing. _Chin up, Ravenwood,_ she scolded herself. _Maybe you'll have to raise another one alone but there's no cryin' in baseball…_

Indy kept his eyes on his feet._ "_So", he said"since nobody needs _me_ here I guess I'll go down and get some breakfast. Gonna pack while I'm gone, sweetheart?" he finished bitterly.

Marion started to answer him, but couldn't make a sound. She took a deep breath, gulped and tried again. "Do you...do you want your shirt back?" she finally croaked.

Indy turned around, irritated "Oh, keep the goddamn shirt", he snarled. "What the hell..."

Then he looked at her. Dark curls fell past her white face, and his shirt outlined those lovely breasts, that were already growing fuller to nourish his child. Silent tears spilled from those beautiful eyes and sheeted down her cheeks. Her set, tragic mouth was still swollen from his kisses.

The world stopped spinning._ She thinks I'm going to leave her_. _Oh, God_. What was he thinking? This was Marion, the love of his life. His beautiful wife, who was carrying his baby. And here they were, fighting like the fools they'd been 2O years ago.

The words didn't come easily, and the gesture was harder, but he held out a hand. "Marion," he said softly. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just runnin' my big mouth when I shouldn't have been."

He walked over to her slowly and crouched down beside the bed.

She turned her head away.

One finger reached out to brush her wet cheek.

"Don't shut me out. Please."

She sniffled. "Fuck you and the camel you rode in on, Henry Jones."

Indy figured this was all sweet-talking he was gonna get, so he slid back in beside her and replaced his arm. Marion stayed rigid and unyielding, turned away from him. They were quiet together for a long time.

She was still looking at the wall when she said "If it makes you feel any better, Indy, Colin and I had this same conversation, only the shoe was on the other foot. Col-well, Col said he hated knowing that no matter how hard he tried or what he did right, I would never love him as much as I loved you."

Indy couldn't stop a small, pleased smile from turning up the corners of his mouth.

"And of course I'm lots more fun in the sack than he was, right?"

_Men._ A faint trace of Marion's dimple appeared. "Of course you are."

"Say that to all the boys?"

"Just you. Oh, Indy, how can I make you understand? Colin was good man, and I tried; I tried my best, to be a good wife to him. But as good a man as he, was Col was never the love of my life, the light of my eyes, and the treasure of my heart. That was you. Always was and always will be."

Marion didn't resist when he turned her face toward him and tenderly touched his lips to hers.

Indy tried drawing her in again, and this time she sighed, relaxed, and settled. _There's my baby. Both of them. Damn . _He rested his cheek on her hair. "Are you as scared as I am?"

She puffed out a laugh. "More than you know. I had a teenage Jones to raise- you have no idea what you're in for, _boychik."_

"Oh yes I do -I _was _a teenage Jones. Good God. Now I'm terrified."

"On the other hand," Indy continued thoughtfully," maybe she'll be a teenage Ravenwood. Pretty as a picture, but hell on wheels, and she'll have me wrapped around her little finger. Just like her mama."

"As long as I'm still number one"

"Always. We did get married, Bright Eyes. Remember the part about 'in sickness and in health? I'm _supposed_ to hold your head if you puke. The minister said so. And I'm pretty sure there was something about 'forsaking all others, keeping only unto her' in there, too."

Marion rallied, and gave him a sidelong smile. "Only pretty sure, Jones?"

"Hey, I wanted to kiss you so bad that my attention kept wandering. Can't blame a fella for that, can you? But yeah, I'm pretty sure. And I'm also pretty sure I've got something to do"

"What's that?"

Indy shifted her onto his lap, slipped one hand inside the shirt, and cupped her barely rounding belly protectively.

"I need to introduce myself to someone," he said, looking down. "So, um, hello in there. I guess we should start getting to know each other. My name's Jones-Henry Jones, Junior. Mostly I go by 'Indiana'. When you get bigger I'll tell you all about how I named myself after the dog. Your grandpa-he was 'Henry Jones' as well- called me 'Junior.' I didn't always like that. Your brother, who's _another _'Henry Jones', calls me 'Dad', sometimes, or 'Indy'. He's not quite sure about me, even now. But then again I didn't raise him, and you and I aren't going to have that problem."

"Now your mother" he continued, "calls me 'Indy', too, at least some of the time. Sometimes she says 'Indy, honey' and I like that a lot. And _sometimes_, she puts her arms around my neck, snuggles up tight, and says 'my Indy' all soft and sweet in my ear. I like that the best. And," he patted the tiny swelling affectionately, "that may be how you got started, kid, 'cause I sure want to _show _her I'm her Indy when she does that."

"Of course" he chuckled, "your old man can't win 'em all. There's other times when it's 'Henry Jones, you _fucking idiot_.' I'm not so crazy about that. But you-_you_ can call me 'Dad'. I'm your father."

Marion, who had been smiling, misty eyed through this monologue, suddenly drew a sharp breath.

"Marion?' Indy said sharply, "Is something wrong?"

She lifted a radiant face "Nothing's wrong, Indy-something's right, very right. She _moved._"

She pushed his hand to the right spot. "Here-twelve weeks is early so it's very faint, but try and feel it."

Indy kept still and waited, scarcely breathing, until he felt a tiny flutter against his palm. His face bloomed with wonder.

"Oh" he finally said "Oh my _God_. It's real-_she's _real. There's somebody in there."

"Yes, yes there is. And I think that was 'hi, Daddy" Marion turned her face into his neck.

"Indy, who did I think I was kidding? You know I can't bear the thought of losing her."

"I know. But I don't think we will. Our friend at Akator said they wanted to give us a gift, and I think this is it."

"A baby?"

"Not just a baby. Another chance to be a decent man. To be with the woman I love. To raise my own child."

"Happily ever after, Jones?"

He chuckled and squeezed her, gently. "Honey, you and I wouldn't know what to do with happily ever after if it hit us over the head with a rock. And," he drew himself up in mock annoyance, "I'll have you know the camel always spoke highly of _you_."

Indy swung his feet to the floor and stood. "Well. Since I'm a father again, I guess I'd better get off my sorry ass and start providing for my wife and child."

Marion giggled. "What, now?"

"Sure". He grinned. "If we were off in the back-beyond I expect I'd have to go kill something, but since we're in a hotel, how about I order breakfast from room service?"

"Huevos Rancheros?"

"For you, anything. But since one of us isn't dressed I'll tell them to leave it outside."


	3. Chapter 3

After breakfast they put the room service cart outside and returned to their private world. Indy didn't exactly _ask _Marion to wash his back. But he'd headed for the en-suite bath with such a hopeful look at his wife that she'd laughed, capitulated, and joined him. Besides, it would have been a pity to waste the enormous hotel bathtub with plenty of room for steaming water, bubbles, a mother-to-be, and a blissful, if rather damp, archaeologist.

"Aaahhh…. this is the life," sighed Indy, half submerged.

"Few things as nice as a back wash from a pretty woman."

"So, the soap doesn't lather if she's plain?" teased Marion, scrubbing.

Indy snorted.

"But tell me, Indy" Marion continued, as she worked her way down his spine, "why do you like this so much?"

He was quiet for a moment, and she could almost see the gears turning in that complex mind. Then she heard the small sigh that usually meant he'd decided to open up.

"Consider my position," Indy began in his 'lecture hall' voice.

It was Marion's turn to snort. "So what position is _that_, professor? You're _naked in a bathtub_, for God's sake. And I'm gonna pour cold water over your head if you don't stop being such a Nimrod."

He splashed her. "Two can play at _that_ game and you're just as naked, kiddo. And I am _not _being a Nimrod!"

She splashed him right back. "All right, you're being a pompous ass."

Then Indy looked at her over his shoulder. "You weren't teasing-you really don't see it, do you? It's the reminder."

"What?"

"Marion, _look_ at me. I'm unarmed, undressed, and my back's turned. But I'm also with _you_. So the only thing that'll happen"-he caught the hand holding the soap, and kissed it- "is something sweet and loving that'll make me feel good. Or," he grinned "a sock in the jaw's always possible, but you don't seem too pissed at me right now."

She gave his cheek a quick smooch. "Not today, Jones."

When they final got around to getting dressed, Indy passed over his leather jacket and field khakis in favor of a linen blazer and tan slacks.

He was combing his hair in front of the bathroom mirror when two arms slipped around him from behind.

"You have your moments, mister, but you sure do clean up nice," said Marion, resting her head on his back.

"My other persona" he chuckled. "Anyone looking for 'Indiana Jones' is gonna walk right past this middle-aged prof. But just in case..." Indy tapped the holstered pistol concealed under his jacket, then turned around and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Do you remember", he said, "what I used to tell you, long ago, when Abe had me take you places?"

"You'd tug on my hair-which you better not even _think _about- and say 'Stay close to your Indy, little Bright Eyes. It's his job to keep you safe.'"

Marion smiled indulgently and shook her head. "I can't seem to make you understand that I'm a grown woman and not your 'little Bright Eyes' anymore."

"Honey, you'll still be my Bright Eyes when I'm 95 and walking with a cane. But give a suffering bastard a break, all right? _You've _had a couple of months to get used to this baby. _I've_ had a couple hours. I'd like it better if you and"-he reached out to pat her waist -"my_ Littlest_ Bright Eyes would stay where I can see you."

Marion wasn't aware she'd made a decision until she licked her lips and spoke. "We'll be right by your side," she said softly.

Indy offered an arm and they headed for the elevator. He looked approvingly at Marion's madras plaid skirt and white blouse. "You look so pretty. But wouldn't you be more comfortable in slacks?"

"Maybe." She tugged at the skirt a little self-consciously. "But I won't have a waist for much longer, thought I'd enjoy it while it lasts. And I, um, actually wore a skirt because there's something I'd like to do. Promise not to laugh?"

Indy started to wisecrack that he thought he'd taken care of everything last night, but reconsidered when he saw her wistful face.

"What?" he said instead.

"I've thought about my mother a lot these last few weeks. I want to go to the Cathedral and light a candle for her."

He smiled down at her. "Seems a little odd for a Buddhist."

"Getting married in St. Thomas Episcopal Church of Bedford was a **lot** odd for a Buddhist, pal. But in the end, maybe the Lady of Guadalupeand the Bodhisattva of Mercy aren't so very far apart. I think mama will understand."

"My mother was a good Episcopalian-do you think _she'd_ understand?" Indy's voice wavered slightly.

Marion touched his cheek with the hand that wore Anna Jones' sapphire.

"I think so Indy, honey," she said gently. "I think so."

"Then let's light a candle for her, too."

After they left the incense-scented dimness of the Cathedral, Indy and Marion strolled through the city, hand in hand. True, Indy tugged her back firmly when she got more than a foot or two away-but today Marion found it endearing instead of annoying. Maybe the distinguished man at her side was older than the rough-and-ready Indy who'd walked with her through crowded streets from Chicago to Marrakesh. But he was as fiercely protective as ever her handsome young lover had been. She took a step closer to him, and smiled.

As the sun rose higher, heat began to shimmer over the cobblestones of the old city. Marion's husband ran a finger inside his collar and looked appraisingly at the sky.

"Time to head back to that nice air conditioned room for lunch and a siesta," he said. "I don't want you getting too tired, honey."

She squeezed his hand. "Really, Indy, I'm not tired and I'm going to be _just fine_. I can't sit around and _gestate _all day, I'll drive us both crazy. When I was this far along with Mutt I was pulling nine-hour shifts on my feet in a pub and…"

Marion closed her mouth abruptly as Indy, stricken and shamefaced, stepped to the curb and hailed a cab. He took her elbow and handed her in as he gave the driver their destination. But once inside he didn't put an arm around her the way he usually did. Instead, he slouched in his seat and looked out the window, not speaking.

"Jones," said Marion, "you look like someone's just stepped on your grave. What's the matter?"

"Can't say I liked the reminder of what a heel I've been. _God,_ Marion. How can you stand to even look at me?"

Marion s hands clenched with exasperation. "Henry Jones, you _fucking idiot_…"

Then she puffed out a breath and tried again. "Look, partner, _I'm _the one who gets to puke in the morning, pee for two, swell up to the size of a whale, and push like a piano mover when it comes time to deliver this kid. You make_ big_ babies, buddy boy." She shot him a glare.

"And," she added softly, "a woman who's just given birth and a newborn aren't real equipped to fend for themselves. Dammit, Jones, you don't get to just sit there and stew. I-_we-_are gonna _need_ you!"

"You needed me before, didn't you," Indy said lowly. And it _was_ my job to keep you safe. But-I failed you. And I failed my son. How do you know I won't fail my daughter?"

She slid across the seat then and put a hand on his arm. "_Indy_. I can't pretend that you didn't hurt me-because you did. And I can't pretend it wasn't hard-because it was. But there's more than just that time between us. Otherwise, I never would have married you."

He looked at her sideways from underneath his hat brim. "So the heel still has chance to make it up to you?"

"The heel and the barmaid _both_ got another chance, didn't they?" She took his hand and laid it on her belly.

Indy couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as he patted it. "And they've got to be the unlikeliest professor and faculty wife in the history of tenure, babe. If some of those stuffed shirts at Marshall only knew…"

"Well, the barmaid's not gonna tell them. After all, she _did_ start out as a professor's daughter."

"Prettiest girl in Chicago, she was, too. One of those smiles and the heel didn't stand a chance." Indy drew her into his side. "Um, has the heel mentioned lately that the barmaid's the best thing that ever happened to him?"

"The heel_ is _a big dope, but the barmaid kind of likes having him around. Probably just as well, since he's her husband and the father of her children."

"Speaking of children-does Mutt know?"

"I haven't told him. He may suspect, though-Ox wondered and if _he_ did.."

"Oh_, _God, if _Ox_ wondered the graduate students probably had a betting pool…"

That got a smile. "And _Mutt _was probably taking the vigorish…"

Although he smiled back, Indy shook his head. "I don't think so. That kid is very protective of you. He's much more likely to show the business end of his switchblade to anyone who disrespects his mama."

Back in their room, Marion sat on the couch and put her feet up. She was so busy luxuriating in the cool air that she didn't notice the worried glance her husband threw her.

Indy didn't know much about pregnancy except how to (hopefully) prevent it-but he saw how quickly Marion had kicked off her shoes. Not to mention the sag in her shoulders and the way she'd rubbed her back when she though he wasn't looking. This obviously called for a clever plan-and he had plenty of those. He slipped into the bedroom and retrieved his book, before joining her on the couch.

"Hey, Shoulder High," he said as he put an arm around her.

"Hey yourself, Jones. What are you reading?"

"It's a new text, _Pathways in Modern Archaeology_. I'm thinking about assigning some chapters next term, but the writing seems a little dry. Why don't you read with me and tell me what you think?"

Marion obligingly settled in, put her head on his shoulder, and started following along. After a few pages, she looked up.

"I see what you mean, Indy. Abner _knew _Howard Carter- he was a dynamic, fascinating man. I didn't think it was possible to make him seem dull."

"I didn't think so, either-but this guy's sure givin' it the old college try. Let's hit the next chapter and see if he does any better with Leonard Woolley."

The room was quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner and an occasional pencil scratch when Indy wrote notes in the margin. He seemed absorbed in the pages before him, but one big hand moved to smooth Marion's hair and stroke her neck. Over and over, gentling and soothing.

He pretended not to notice as Marion's grip on the book's spine loosened and her breathing began to slow. As he kept reading, he snuck little glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. When they stayed closed, Indy cuddled her in with a self-satisfied smile at how well his ploy had worked.

_Yeah, Marion, I can see how tired you're __not.__ And God only knows what damn fool stunts you buffaloed good ol' Ox into thinking you could do, baby or no. Not gonna work on ME, sweetheart-and I'll bet my bottom dollar the kid will back me 100%._ _Once he stops being mortified at the thought of his parents making a baby, that is._

Indy laid his sleeping wife flat on the couch and tucked his jacket around her shoulders. She still didn't look comfortable enough, so he grabbed a pillow and blanket and covered her up. He crouched beside her for a moment, smoothing her hair and counting her soft breaths.

Then he rose and walked to the bedroom. Quietly, he stripped off the shirt, slacks and tie. Once he was back in his familiar camp clothes, he rummaged in the nightstand for a sheet of hotel stationery. He scribbled a few words, folded the paper and laid it on the coffee table where Marion would be sure to see it when she woke up.

Marion stirred as he stood looking down at her, and Indy froze until she turned over and her breathing slowed. He remembered a cold sleety night in New York, when he'd gone to her bed for what he'd thought would be the last time.

_A lot's changed since those days, honey, but one thing's stayed true. You still deserve a much better man. _Indy slipped the room key into his jacket, put on his hat, and let the door close softly behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Indy figured that a guy dressed like he was stood far less chance of being noticed if he went down the service stairs and left by way of the kitchen. So that's what he did, with a polite hat-tip to the cooks on his way out. His long-legged stride soon took him away from the central city and down to a narrow back street where no four-star hotels were to be seen.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Indy slipped into a dusty cantina. He ordered a double whiskey with a beer chaser at the bar. Then he found a corner table where he could sit with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door.

A sloe-eyed girl, wearing a white blouse pulled low on her brown shoulders, lingered nearby. She wondered if the senor would like company.

"I'm waiting for someone, thank you," the senor answered courteously. The girl hesitated, saw that he meant it, and wandered off in search of better prospects.

A shadow fell across the table as Indy sipped his drink, and a familiar voice said "Hello, Joe, whaddaya know?" He smiled.

"I was starting to think I'd shaken you off, Junior," Indy said to his son.

Mutt sat down opposite his father and accepted the beer gratefully.

"Not a chance, Daddy-O. I've been right behind you two most of the morning-couldn't you tell by the gagging noises?"

Indy cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm serious. You got any idea how many times an hour you call her 'sweetheart', or 'honey'? And it's 'baby' if it's not those."

"So? The best thing that ever happened to me is back in my life. Not a federal offense if I'm happy, kid. I'd get used to it if I were you."

Indy turned his half-full glass in one hand, and spoke thoughtfully as the amber liquid swirled.

"Y'know, Mac's excuse for what he did, was that he was tired of comin' home empty-handed. And" -his smile held a hint of self-mockery-"I will say you sure as hell don't hit pay dirt on every one of these little ventures."

"Is that right?" Mutt responded dryly. "I never woulda guessed…"

"But," Indy added, "sometimes you do. Me, I've done pretty well for a guy who started with nothin'. Made something of a name for myself, got tenure, a big house, and, yeah, some _dinero _as well. But when I closed that door behind me-and Marion wasn't there- I knew I'd come home empty-handed all the same."

He glanced down at his gold wedding band. "Didn't realize how rich I was, back when all I had to my name was a shiny new diploma, and a secondhand tent where the sweetest little baby that ever was waited for me."

"And speaking of which..." Indy put down his drink, looked Mutt in the eye, and faced his own moment of truth. "I got some news this morning. I think your mother and I have something to tell you…"

Mutt's face split in a grin. "_Sheee-it_! So it's true, then?"

Indy felt a stab of jealousy and frowned. "You knew?"

Mutt held up a placating hand. "Hey, hey, Pops,-take it easy. Mom didn't say anything to me but everybody on the dig was worried. She tried to act like nothing was happenin', but she couldn't always hide the tiredness and the morning sickness."

He swallowed. "I just didn't think she could be _pregnant,_ y'know? I was afraid she was sick, maybe even dying, and just not telling anybody…."

Indy reached over and squeezed his son's shoulder, briefly. "If it's any consolation, she woke me up this morning-being sick-and I thought the same thing. Scared the hell out of me."

"Anyway, I didn't know what to do, so I went to the Ox. Ox is always straight with me and he told me what he thought was goin' on. But he said I had to keep my trap shut, because you should be the first person she told."

"And she told me today." Indy blew out his breath. "Not the birthday present a guy my age expects, I'm tellin' you. But–it's good."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is. You remember, Ox said that some 'mutual friends' of ours wanted to give us a gift last fall? Maybe this second chance is it."

"It's possible, I guess. I mean, enough weird-ass shit seems to happen to you on a regular basis anyway.

What's one more thing?"

Mutt's voice softened. "How is she?"

Happy-but she's not quite ready to say so. A little scared, but she'll never admit it. And, this wasn't in her plans so she, um..."

"Might possibly be a little pissed at the guy who knocked her up?" Mutt added. The two men exchanged a wry look.

"Well, yeah" said Indy, "But there's a good chance she still loves him. And I know she loves that baby already. So we'll work it out, since we've got a new little Jones coming."

"I hope so." Mutt set his jaw then, and fixed his father with a glare that would have done credit to his Grandfather Abner. "But since there's a new little_ Ravenwood _coming, I'm gonna say one thing, and the hell with whether you like it or not. Ox better be right. You_ better _treat this as a gift-and that means no more 'human wreckage', man. I know some guys 'step out' when their wives are pregnant-but you best not be one of 'em. Because if you cheat- and yes, I saw that girl-listen up. Mom has a nice house in Chicago, and lots of friends there…"

"The Marion Ravenwood Fan Club," Indy muttered sourly, "don't I know it."

"And she's got a business that brings in plenty enough. Maybe I didn't like prep school, but I was never the 'scholarship boy'. Cash on the barrelhead, all the way. You chase tail on the side-your loss, _amigo_. Me and my Mom and my little brother or sister can do just fine without you-and don't you forget it."

Indy inhaled sharply and clenched a fist. He returned Mutt's glare with a stern look that could have come from Henry Jones, Sr. himself. "This is intolerable,' he growled. "In the first place, your Spanish should be good enough to understand that I sent the girl on her way. In the second place, I'm well aware that Marion can do just fine without me- or any other man for that matter. But I don't want to do without her. A man who's got steak doesn't go lookin' for hamburger, capsice?"

"In the third place" Indy finished, "the only reason I haven't broken your nose for talking to me like that is I don't want to upset my pregnant wife."

Unexpectedly, his anger ebbed, and Indy leaned back in his chair to look at the young man sitting across from him-leather jacket, big hands, chest and shoulders starting to fill out. And the spark in his eyes that made him a Jones…

"You know," he said at last "I may not be as young as I used to be, but I'm still not the man most guys your age would choose to challenge. "But maybe" he finished quietly, "I should be proud that my son's got the _cojones _to stand up to me when he thinks it's necessary."

"My mama didn't raise a wuss-boy."

"No. She raised a man. Now, Marion and I have dinner reservations at 7:30. If you've got a sport coat you could join us. I know she'd be happy to see you and 'officially' tell you her news."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Mutt answered hastily. "This may come as a shock to you, but my idea of a good time is not sitting on my ass in a monkey suit. Your wedding was plenty. Besides, watching you two make goo-goo eyes at each other is enough to make any guy lose his appetite. I'll just keep your hotel kitchen convinced that I'm their new dishwasher, and try to stay handy in case of trouble."

"All right. If I haven't said it, I really appreciate this, Mutt. I've been able to relax a little and enjoy my time with Marion because I knew you had my back."

"Hey, it's not a tie or a bottle of aftershave, but happy birthday anyway-Dad."

Indy smiled. "Thanks." He didn't hear 'Dad' often from this member of the family, and had learned to value the times when he did. "I better be getting back. I know we have some kind of security, but I don't want to trust your mother to whoever it is for too long. See you tomorrow at the train station?"

"You bet. Remember, as far as Mom's gonna know-I just got there."

Indy and Mutt clasped arms. Mutt finished his beer and waited while his father walked out the door and was swallowed up by the street outside.

Back at the hotel, Marion woke up to find herself alone. Her back was cold and she didn't hear water running or the sound of anyone moving about. She saw the scrap of paper on the coffee table and her heart sank._ I should have known_... she thought wearily. Then the leaden exhaustion of early pregnancy pulled her back to sleep. _I'll deal with it later…._

She wasn't sure how much 'later' it was when the key rattled, and a man's heavy footfall crossed the living room. Only two pairs of big feet could make that much thud-and one of them should still be back with Ox.

Marion sat up and rubbed her eyes as Indy-scrubbed, shaved, combed, and resplendent in his dinner jacket-sat down beside her.

"Brought you something, Short Stuff-both of you"

He produced a white florist's box from behind his back and handed it to her with a grin and a flourish. Inside was an exquisite wrist corsage – a perfect white orchid tied with blue satin ribbons. Nestled close to the orchid was a tiny pink rosebud.

Indy ducked his head, almost shyly, and said "That restaurant on the roof is a pretty swanky place, so I wanted you to have this-and, well, I thought her daddy should be the first man to bring our daughter flowers."

Marion touched the velvety petals with a gentle finger. "They're beautiful, Indy." She managed a chuckle. "I must say, watching you fall for a new female has its' entertaining moments."

"Do you mind?"

"Not so long as she's the one I'm carrying."

Indy, expecting a kiss, tipped up her chin with a finger and paused. "Hey, what the hell is this – you've been crying!"

"I never cry. Especially not twice in one day."

"Of course you don't. Especially not when you're pregnant."

"Well, all right," she said crossly. "So I woke up and you were gone and you left a note and it was just a little much, OK? Happy now?"

"No." _Doesn't say much for a man when his son assumes that he'll cheat, and his wife thinks he's bound to leave her_. "I don't suppose" Indy said carefully, "that you actually read the note?"

He picked it up and handed it to her. "Here."

Marion unfolded the paper and blinked as she deciphered his familiar scrawl.

_Stay in the hotel, gestate, and get some rest for once. Back for dinner. Indy._

"Back for dinner?" she finally asked, with a soft half-smile.

"Back, period" he affirmed. "Gotta trust me sometime, sweetheart."

"It's hard."

"I know. But," he added gently, " there's no place I'd rather be than here with my baby- and this little one too. Now I think we're going out for dinner, Mrs. Jones, so I'll wait while you get ready. Did I guess right on the color?"

"Yes, you did. I brought the blue dress you got me in Paris- if you remember it?"

He did, quite well. It was midnight blue, scoop-necked, and nicely fitted in places he definitely approved of. A full skirt flared from the waist to swish and flounce around Marion's knees. She'd twirled in front of the mirror like a little girl when she'd tried it on for him. _She should have had someone buying her pretty things all her life. On the other hand, if he'd counted right, some pretty lingerie and a bottle of Lafite-Rothschild could take some credit for this baby... Well, that and the romance of the City of Lovers.._

"Well, Dr. Jones, I'll go change and freshen up."

Indy went for his book-he may not have been a husband for very long but he'd learned how long 'freshening up 'was likely to take.

He was a chapter or so in when Marion came toward him, held up her hair, and presented her back.

"Jones?" she said "My zipper?"

Indy performed his husbandly chore and found that he had to tug hard to close the zipper at the bodice. "Sorry, I don't know why it's sticking."

"Oh, it's one of the many joys of pregnancy. Your belly isn't the only thing that gets bigger."

"Really? Can't say that I'll mind _that._"

He turned his Marion around to admire her and paused, smiling.

"You look so beautiful."

She actually blushed. "_Indy_…"

"I mean it. You just _glow._ I can't decide if I want to take you to the restaurant and show you off or stay in and have you to myself."

Marion patted her stomach. "This is getting a little tight. Most of my clothes are, really. Think this trip is my waistline's last hurrah, pal. And we're already dressed up…"

"Then the restaurant it is." Indy stepped back, grinning, and offered Marion his arm.

"Ladies?"


	5. Chapter 5

Mutt would definitely have lost his appetite if he'd joined his parents for dinner. Indy and Marion, however, had a wonderful time. They laughed and flirted, fed each other bites of their entrees, and played footsie under the table.

"I should order another Scotch" Indy said thoughtfully, as their waiter cleared the flan they'd split for dessert.

He received a Wifely Look, and grinned. "Hey, think of my manly pride-how could I miss a chance to out-drink you? They don't come along too often."

The Scotch had barely been touched when the small band began to play. Indy had always loved to dance-it was one of the few socially acceptable outlets for his restless energy. So when the music started, he rose with his hand outstretched. "C'mon, babe."

Marion fished under the table for her pumps, and grimaced.

"What's the matter?'

'Yet another one of the joys of pregnancy, Jones. My feet are swollen and I can't get my shoes back on."

Indy's smile, if possible, became warmer and deeper. "You've danced with me in your stocking feet before. Don't you remember?"

Marion smiled back. "Well, now that you mention it…"

_**Chicago, 1922**_

Marion Ravenwood, thirteen years old, was sprawled chin in hand on the Oriental rug in her father's front parlor. She'd been listening to the Victrola and brooding-well, alright, maybe _sulking_ was a better word- but even Harry Lauder's comedy routines hadn't lifted her spirits. Marion was about to write the day off as a bad job and head to her room with a book, when she heard a car pull up outside. Soon the oak front door squeaked and heavy footfalls sounded. There was a babel of masculine voices as a group of students gathered in Abner's gracious foyer.

"Lord, I thought this term would never be over…"

"You're a fine one to talk, pal. You didn't have to write that Linguistics final!"

"Lingistics, my grandmother's left foot. Dr. Ravenwood made me revise my final paper three times..."

"But we're free men till the dig starts..."

"You said a mouthful, brother. Time to celebrate!"

The distinctive voice of Indiana Jones, her father's protégé, rose above the others. "You fellas know Elliott's kind of a goody two shoes, right? So he's not gonna be serving any hooch. Why don't we just keep it in the car, stay at his party for a couple of hours and then head for the lake with the girls..."

At this, a mischievous smile turned up the corners of Marion's mouth. She scrambled to her feet, smoothed her crumpled skirt, and opened the parlor doors. She surveyed the motley crew in the hall with a knowledgable eye.

"If you bad boys came here for what I think you might have," Marion said coolly, "it's not where you left it. That new upstairs maid is strict Southern Baptist and she'd drop a dime to the coppers as soon as look at you."

"Not where we left it? said Jack Shannon. "Not where _Jones_ left it, you mean." Jack turned to his friend with a conspiratorial grin. "Y'know, lndy, I have a sneaking suspicion that _somebody_ here might know where the booze is hidden."

"If that person knows anything, why- she's a peach, fellas," Indy replied.

"And _some people_ owe her a big vote of thanks for saving their bacon-again," Charlie Evans chimed in.

"Well', said Marion, slightly mollified, "If _certain parties_ are looking for 'coffin varnish', they _might _want to walk to the carriage house out back and excavate the old tack room. I hear tell there are some remarkable finds in those parts."

With that, she lifted her nose, turned on her heel, and beat a dignified retreat to the wingchair by the Victrola.

Glances were exchanged over Marion's head. With a nod from Indiana, the students trooped into the parlor after her. Sure, they were all looking forward to their night on the town, but 'Abner's little girl' was their mascot and none of them liked to see her unhappy.

Indy crouched in front of the chair and tipped her chin up with a finger. "Why the long face, Short Stuff?"

"Isn't it obvious? Well, if you can't tell, I hate Chicago, I _detest_ Fridays, I _abhor_ dancing class, and I'm never going back there as long as I live!"

Indy tugged her braids. "Whole lotta hatin' there for one little girl, Freckle Face."

Marion put her hands over her hair ribbons and glared at him indignantly. "Stop pulling my hair, Indiana Jones. You don't know anything about anything! You're nothing but a male, and males are-are nothing but a disgusting scourge upon the face of the earth!"

Somebody's got your number, Jones" Pete McGregor snickered.

"Yeah, McGregor, so's your old man!" Indy shot back.

Just as things were beginning to get out of hand, Harold Oxley quietly placed himself at the forefront of the group. The soft –spoken Briton took Marion's hand and bowed over it gallantly. "My very dear Miss Ravenwood," said 'The Ox' in his cultured Received Pronunciation, "on behalf of the masculine gender, if one of our number has offended you in some way, may I venture to offer our humblest apologies?"

Marion dimpled at this, but Indiana scowled and said "…If one of our number has… Hey, wait a minute… Kiddo, does this mean Indy needs to whip somebody's a -?"

"Henry," Ox interrupted sternly, "Ladies present! Kindly endeavor..."

"…to behave like a gentleman," Indy finished wryly. He ducked his head, shamefaced. "Sorry, Ox. Look, I know I should watch my language, but that's not what's important right now." He turned to Marion. "Has some palooka hurt your feelings, honey?"

Marion sighed. "Well," she allowed, "I guess dancing class wasn't _too_ awful until I had to do the waltz with horrid, nasty, _repulsive _Robby Fletcher. " A few tongues were bitten around the room as the young men recalled their own dancing lessons.

"So what happened?" Jack asked.

"I think the teacher made me waltz with Robby because most of the other girls are taller than he is. And that wasn't too bad-I was trying to be nice, honest-but he kept stepping on my feet and it hurt and I told him to cut it out and then he said…" her voice trailed off.

"He said what…." demanded Indy, in a voice that brooked no argument.

"C'mon Marion, you can tell us" Pete encouraged.

"It's a right, my dear," Ox smiled.

Marion took a breath and let the words tumble out. "He said that dancing with me was like dancing with a washboard and I should"-she gulped- " just shut up and be grateful if any fella gave an oil can like me the time of day...And he's a fine one to talk," she finished resentfully. "His palms sweat, his breath reeks, and he has _spots!_"

A few laughs were hastily converted to throat clearings and coughs.

Indy bit back a few choice words as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Y'know," he said at last, "I'll bet this kid's sweet on you."

"_What_? No, he's not!"

"Oh, I think he might be. The trouble is, he hasn't been out of short pants long enough to know how to treat a lady. And us fellas can act kinda goofy when we're around a pretty girl."

"Well, you're all wet there, Indy, 'cause I'm not pretty."

"Not pretty? Says you!" Indy put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Why, give it a year or two and my little Freckle Face is gonna be the prettiest girl in Chicago. Isn't that right, guys?"

He gave the group a meaningful look, and there were nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Boys will be fighting for a spot on your dance card pretty soon", Indy continued. "And this young fella-why, he's sure gonna be sorry that he lost his chance with you. Oh, he'll be eating his heart out; just you wait and see… "

Marion was starting to look more cheerful.

"Of course" Indy finished offhandedly, "there's one little problem. You can't show him up like he deserves if you can't dance..."

Marion's face fell, and Indy's eyes danced with mischief.

"So tell you what, kid. If you go back to your dancing lessons, and Abner doesn't get any calls from your teacher, Indy will take you to a baseball game. How would that be?"

Marion wavered. "Lemonade?"

Indy chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain, little lady. But sure, lemonade, hot dogs, and all the Cracker Jack you can eat. But I get to root for the Yankees if they're playing-and I bet I can still spit a peanut shell farther than you can."

Marion gave him a challenging look. "Think so?"

"No need to encourage the girl to be a hoyden, Indiana" Ox put in.

"And no need to break her spirit, Ox" Indy answered, serious for once. He extended a hand to Marion.

"So, Shoulder High, have we got a deal?"

"Deal," she agreed, and they shook solemnly.

"As for the dancing, all you probably need is a little practice with some fellas who know how. And I know just the ones." Indy made a sweeping gesture toward his friends. "Look right here-answers to the sighs of maidens, every one of us…"

"Yeah, Marion, let's do a little dancing" said Charlie. "Dave put some records in the car -why don't we cut a rug while Indy and Ox, ah, 'excavate the tack room' ".

He struck a pose that was meant to emulate Rudolph Valentino and began to sing- off key- "_I am the Sheeeeik of Aaar-a-by, your loooove belongs to meee….._"

"Let's scram, Ox, before we have to hear any more", said Indy with a grin.

By the time the trunk had been loaded, _I Wish That I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate_ was blaring from the Victrola. Marion, flushed and laughing, was being spun around the parlor by the celebrating students. Jack fanned her out for a twirl, and she executed a rather impressive shimmy when she turned back to him. Everyone laughed and clapped.

Jones and Oxley paused in the doorway to take it all in. Indy grinned and turned to his friend. "Just look at that, willya? And she thinks she's not pretty. Abe will be borrowing my bullwhip to keep the boys in line soon, mark my words."

Ox nodded in agreement. "You're awfully good with her, you know," he said.

"Nah," Indy answered. "I just try to think of what my mother would have told my little sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister." This was the first time Ox had heard Indiana mention anything about his family.

Indy pressed his lips together and looked down. "Not anymore," he said softly. "Scarlet Fever."

"My condolences," Ox said sincerely.

"My mother's gone, too, "Indy added after a moment. "So Abner and little Marion are the closest thing to a family I've got left. Which reminds me, I'm gonna duck down to the kitchen and make sure Cook has left her some dinner. Abe is doing some 'celebrating' of his own and won't be back 'till late."

When Indy came back, Ox had unbent sufficiently to lead Marion through a spirited two-step to the tune of _Toot Toot Tootsie Goodbye_. Charlie, Dave, Pete and Jack sang along in improvised harmony. "_Watch for the mail-I'll never fail. If you don't get a letter than ya know I'm in jail…._"

"I think we've just got time to try the modern waltz", Pete said as they finished. "Here, Marion, take my hand."

The waltz did not start well. One moment Marion was a glowing sprite, floating on the music and the young men's admiring smiles. But after Pete put his arm around her, her shoulders hunched, her back stiffened, and she started to stumble over his feet.

Indy frowned as it dawned on him what the problem likely was. Abner could charitably be described as a distant father. Motherless Marion received little if any physical affection. Of course she was self-conscious and uncomfortable being held close by a man. Come to think of it, the most affection she likely got was from the fella who used to carry her piggyback- who still pulled her hair, thumb-wrestled with her, and picked her up and swung her when he came back from travelling. Well, what the hell. Maybe it would be easier if that guy held her.

Indy crossed the parlor floor and tapped Pete on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in, pal?"

Pete smiled with relief and handed Marion over.

Indy put a hand on her shoulder to make her stand still. "Kid, it's a little harder to catch on to the waltz than the two-step because you _are_ dancing close and the girl has to follow pretty well. And I'll bet my last dime Robby-boy can't lead worth cr- I, ah, mean peanuts. No wonder you were having trouble. So I want you to practice following first. Just stand on my feet and move when I do."

Marion actually giggled. "Well they are big enough for both of us!"

Indy cleared his throat, the picture of offended dignity, and did his best Ox impression. "Kindly refrain from casting aspersions on my extremities, Miss Ravenwood."

Then he grinned. "Now, off with your shoes and all aboard."

Marion kicked her shoes toward the wing chair and let Indy hoist her up. She perched on his big brogans like a little girl 'dancing' with her Daddy or older brother, and put her hands on his waist for balance. Indy produced a soothing flow of talk as he walked her around the rug, 1-2-3, 1-2-3.

"Say, fellas, did I ever tell you how I got introduced to Freckle Face here? –Oh we go back a long way, lemme tell you. I met her in Jerusalem when I was 10 years old and she was just a baby."

Marion began to relax as Indy reminisced about the archaeological dig in Jerusalem, the two travelling scholars, and the tea at the American Embassy where they had met each other's families. She leaned her head into his chest and sighed as he went on -this was a familiar story, as beloved as a fairy tale, and she never got tired of hearing it.

"Then Mrs. Ravenwood showed me the baby," Indy finished, "so I leaned over her and said 'Hello, Marion.' I was trying to be a polite young gentleman, OK? And then you know what she did, the little stinker? She waved those tiny fists and pow! Right in the kisser! She punched me!"

There was a general roar of laughter as Indy and Marion fetched up by the Victrola.  
She grinned at him and said, as she always did, "I'm sure you had it coming, Jones."

He tweaked her nose in response and said, as he always did, "Oh, at some point somewhere, I probably did something to deserve it."

Then Indy cleared his throat and said "I think you're ready to try the dance step with music, Short Stuff. Say, Ox- since you're our resident authority on propriety, come show Marion where a gentleman puts his hands when he's waltzing with a lady."

"Yeah, 'cause Jones wouldn't know!" David Brothers laughed.

Indy scowled and his right hand began to curl into a fist, but before he could say anything Oxley fixed the offender with a withering glare. "It surely behooves us all to behave like gentlemen with Dr. Ravenwood's daughter," he said frostily.

Dave subsided, abashed, and Ox turned his attention to the couple before him.

"Now then, you lot-the waltz. The gentleman, Indiana, takes the lady's right hand in his left, and holds it at a height comfortable for them both. I'd recommend lowering your arm slightly, as Marion is rather petite. Then, Marion, the lady places her left arm on her partner's right. You may also put your hand on his shoulder if you prefer. " She did prefer, and tipped her head back to smile at him.

"Finally, the gentleman lightly encircles the lady's waist with his right arm, and places the palm of his hand just above her waist line, keeping it _over_ her clothing if she is wearing a low-backed gown. And there you are."

Ox smiled approvingly as he stepped back. "Charming picture."

"You sure are, sweetheart," said Indy to Marion.

"All we need is an easy dance tune", Ox added, as he rummaged through the shelves in the Victrola. "How about the_ Merry Widow Waltz?"_

At this, there was a wave of suppressed chortles and guffaws.

"First rube who cracks the joke you're all thinkin' is gonna find '_knuckle sandwich_' on the menu, "Indy remarked sweetly.

"Why is everybody laughing?" asked Marion, affronted.

"Nobody's laughing at us, honey. They're laughing because Ox doesn't know American slang yet, and he said something 'warm' that he didn't mean to." (Author's note: _The Merry Widow_ was a wildly popular operetta from the early 1900s, which featured a lovely waltz tune. By the '20s a 'merry widow' was also a euphemism for *ahem* male birth control. The 'merry widow waltz' alluded to the situation when such 'precautions' might be needed. Ox didn't mean to be naughty.)

"My apologies" said Ox. "Quite unintentional, I assure you. What on earth did I did I say?"

"Yeah, Indy, what did he say?"

Indy took a deep breath. "Never you mind, little Bright Eyes. Besides, it's rude to talk about one gentleman when you're waltzing with another. Keep that in mind when all the boys line up to dance with you."

He nodded to Ox. "Maestro?" Ox put the needle down on the wax disc, and a sweet, haunting waltz began to play. Indy counted a few bars in Marion's ear, took her hand, and led her off around the room.

They did make a charming sight- the slim girl, just beginning to outgrow the coltishness of childhood, and her tall, handsome partner. She gazed up at him with trusting blue eyes. He looked down at her with a mixture of amusement and tenderness, as he carefully guided her steps.

"Say, Ox" said Jack behind his hand "who's Indy taking to the party tonight?"

"Miss Andrews, I believe," Ox answered.

Jack snorted. "God help us. Imogen Andrews would _cast a kitten_ if she were here. Jones may pitch a little woo here and there, but I've never seen him like this with anyone."

Ox nodded in agreement. "He's waiting for Marion to grow up, you know," he replied quietly. "Even if neither of them realizes it yet."

_**Gran Hotel Ciudad de Mexico, Mexico City, 1958**_

Indy could never manage to be stern when those blue eyes looked up at him, but he tried his best. He cleared his throat and said "You do remember that the man does the leading?"

Marion tossed her head. "As long as you remember where a gentleman puts his hands."

"Oh, trust me. I can put them somewhere ungentlemanly later. "

So Marion abandoned her shoes, stood on her tiptoes, and stepped into her husband's waiting arms. Since the restaurant on the roof was well beyond the means of the rock-n-roll generation, the band catered to the taste of older, more affluent patrons. They played the Jazz and standards Indy and Marion knew, one after another- _I've Got You Under My Skin, That Old Black Magic, String of Pearls, Fools Rush In._

At the end of their set, the band played _Time After Time_. Indy hummed along with the words.

"_I only know, what I know –the passing years may show You've kept my love so young, so new And time after time You'll hear me say that I'm So lucky to be loving you..." _

As the last bars faded, Marion's eyes were half closed, and her head rested heavily on Indy's shoulder. "Time to call it a night, Mrs. Jones" he murmured into her ear. "I want my daughter in at a decent hour."

Back in their suite, Marion chucked the offending shoes in a corner, hung up her Paris dress and relaxed gratefully on the bed. Indy leaned on the bedroom door to admire her while he loosened his tie.

"Look at you in those stockings with your hair on my pillow. You could be a Vargas pin-up."

"And how would you know about those, Dr. Jones?"

"I have students. They have hormones. Q.E.D. I might ask you the same question, wife of mine."

"We have a son. He has friends. Q.E.D., yourself, professor. "

The bedsprings creaked as Indy sat down. One big hand smoothed her slip over the bump on her stomach. "I think you're beginning to show, a little."

"I think you're right. Maybe she won't be shy, now that she knows her Daddy wants her."

"Of course her Daddy wants her. But," he sighed, "it's gonna be a long few months, sweetheart."

Marion frowned in puzzlement. "What? Why?"

"Honey, know that you're pregnant, don't we have to stop…."

"Indy, what did we do last night?"

"If I thought there was gonna be a test, baby, I woulda taken notes."

"Don't you remember?" she teased.

"Of course I do. A beautiful houri slipped into my arms and made someone who loves her very, _very _happy. And" he added, "he hopes he did the same for her."

_Men._ Well, even the most confident among them craved a little reassurance on this point. Marion lifted his hand to her cheek, and laid a kiss in the palm. "He's a wonderful lover, and he always does. Always."

Instead of smiling or kissing her, Indy kept his eyes down and licked his lips nervously. "Honey? Well, um, about last night…"

"What about it?"

"I was pretty happy to see you." His mouth quirked. "Hell, I can't think of a time I wasn't happy to have you in my bed. But I didn't know-about the baby, I mean- and I guess I got um, kind of…"

Marion tucked a smile in the corners of her mouth. "Enthusiastic?" she offered helpfully.

Indy flushed to the roots of his hair "I-I guess you could say that, yeah. But- what I wanted to know is- "

"Is what?"

He gripped her hand and blurted, "Last night-did we -did _I _do anything that could have hurt our baby? God, I'd never forgive myself if I…"

_This,_ Marion thought lovingly, _had to be worth a hundred bouts of morning sickness_. Indiana Jones, scholar, adventurer, and man of the world, was holding her hand, blushing and stammering. Shy as a boy, with his heart in his eyes. Some of that love and affection Ox had been talking about was clearly in order. "Oh, you _adorable _man," she said, and put her arms around his neck.

A short while later they were snuggled together on the coverlet. Indy's tie had disappeared, his shirt collar was unbuttoned, and he had lipstick on his face and neck. He didn't, however, look too displeased with any of this.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"_Indy_. You didn't know I was pregnant-_but I did._ I wouldn't have let anything happen that could hurt our baby. They can be surprisingly resilient little buggers, Jones. And''-she laid his hand on her belly-"you gave me a big, strong, healthy one last time."

Indy tried to look modest-and failed miserably. "Think I've done it again?"

Marion felt his chest puff out under her cheek, and looked up. That cocky grin was back-along with more than a hint of male smugness. She smiled, and ran a finger down his nose.  
"You just may have. And, as for the question you're trying to be a gentleman about asking.."

"Uh, what about it?" Indy managed.

His wife gave him a reassuring smile. "We don't have to stop making love. Now, I don't think this is something men talk about among themselves"

"At least not any guys _I _know…"

"But women do. Most couples find ways to be, well, intimate and loving during a pregnancy and I'm sure we can, too."

Indy brightened up considerably at this thought. Marion poked him in the ribs.

"Hey! A gentleman shouldn't tickle a pregnant woman, but don't push me, kid."

'"Well, you better not get too happy yet, mister. That big, healthy baby _also_ came with a big, healthy appetite and a fine set of lungs. And I warn you, for the first month he wanted to eat every two-and-a-half hours. Around the clock."

"Good God. What did you do?"

"I sure as hell didn't 'put him on a schedule and let him cry it out', like the busybodies said. I kept Mutt close, the way a Nepali mother does. He slept in a basket by my bed, and when he woke up, I'd just feed him and snuggle him until we both fell back to sleep."

Indy grinned. "Kid had the goddamn life of Reilly. He must have been one happy baby."

Marion smiled reminiscently. "Oh, he was. A fine happy baby, and a busy, happy little boy."

A shadow of regret mixed with the tenderness on Indy's face. "You're an amazing woman, you know that?" he said at last. "You and I both lost our mothers young and basically raised ourselves. Where did you learn to take care of a baby?_ I_ sure don't know a damn thing about them…."

"I watched other people who were doing it right and copied what they did. And-don't laugh- when I didn't know what to do, I listened to my heart. When my heart told me to pick up my hungry little boy and love him, I did."

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "Babies don't come with instructions, Indy. All parents make it up as we go."

"Make it up as we go, huh? Well," Indy said resolutely, "that I can do."

_**Coda**_

Indy's eyes snapped open in the darkened hotel room. He looked at the glowing hands on his travel alarm clock. Three in the morning_. Good practice, I suppose_, he thought wryly. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping wife. He picked up his robe, and, on sudden impulse, the gun that rested on his nightstand. Indiana Jones had two people to protect now. And anyone who threatened them would find that he took that job very, very seriously.

He prowled the quiet rooms, checked all the windows, and cracked open the door to scout the hotel corridor. The American agent at the end of the hall sketched him the ghost of a salute. _All clear, safe and sound._

Marion had turned onto his pillow when he got up, instinctively drawn to his warmth and scent. Indy slid in behind her, and she nestled against him, still sleeping. _Awww….honey. Nothing there but trust for your Indy-the way it should have been all along. And the way it's gonna be from now on._ _For both of you_. He stroked Marion's belly and his heart lurched at a minuscule _shift _from the occupant.

_Are you awake in there, my Littlest Bright Eyes?_ he thought at the baby. _Do you hear your mother's heart beat, I wonder? Do you feel mine, when I hold her? Funny. Yesterday, I didn't know you existed. Today, I'd die for you. What the hell- guess that means I'm a father. So let your mama rest in my arms, little one. Go to sleep-you're safe. Dad's here. Dad's here._


End file.
